


Dusted

by glacis



Category: Smallville
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-28
Updated: 2010-01-28
Packaged: 2017-10-06 18:34:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glacis/pseuds/glacis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clark gets distracted and dusted and dreamy. Lex thinks.  Smut ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dusted

Dusted, by glacis.

 

At least the threat was gone.

Clark repeated the words over and over to himself as he ran aimlessly over miles of Kansas back country, trying to run off the resentment burning through him and the urges making his skin itch. Everything was okay. Lex was okay. It had been three days since Jeff tried to kill him, and everything had settled down.

True, now Lex was alone in that huge empty castle, but at least he didn't have hostile poltergeists or freaky servants' children running around in stealth-mode trying to kill him. And Victoria was back in Metropolis.

Unfortunately, he couldn't truthfully say which of the two constituted more of a threat. At least from Clark's perspective.

At least what Jeff did, bizarre as it was, he did out of love for his sister. And as nuts as she had been, at least she'd thought she loved Lex. Victoria was just using him. Plus she was going behind his back, and hacking into his files, and probably betraying him, and definitely sleeping with him.

The last thought made him trip. Not a good thing when going faster than the eye could follow. He flattened a mile of corn rows before he could stop his forward momentum. Finally spinning to a stop, he lay sprawled on the dirt, staring up at the sky, winded not by the fall but by his own thoughts. Didn't he want Lex to be happy? Why should he care if Victoria was having sex with Lex?

Three little words kept cycling over and over and over in his brain. Sex with Lex. Not something he should be thinking about, but he couldn't get it out of his head. No chance in the world, of course, but there it was. Invading his dreams. Replacing Lana in his floating, out-of-body experiences, and it hurt even more when Lex said it was all Clark's fault than when Lana did, for some reason. At least Clark crashing to earth hadn't made an orphan out of Lex, although from what he'd seen of Luthor Senior that might have been an improvement. Still, it didn't address the root of his problem.

Groaning over the inadvertent mental pun, fighting down the chorus of "I wanna have sex with Lex!" repeating in a continuous loop in his brain, he tried to get up. That's when he realized he couldn't.

He was dizzy and queasy, and if he hadn't been thinking about sex with Lex for the last several moments he would have known it a long time before he did. He'd thought it was the idea of sex, or maybe Lex, or probably both together, that was making him dizzy, but it was an outside source. He lifted his hand.

It was dusted with sparkling green particles that glowed beautifully on his skin and made the blood under the surface move like sludgy antifreeze. The second thing he realized was that the field he was lying in was covered with a light coating of the stuff, and all the leaves rustling around him glowed faintly. It was his own personal horror movie.

Squinting through watering eyes, he saw the fence he'd blown right over, the one with the ten-foot-high sign with "Stay Out : Restricted Area : Trespassers Will Be Prosecuted : LuthorCorp" stamped in two foot high bright red letters on it.

"Darn," he sighed. Maybe it hadn't been the thought of sex with Lex that tripped him up. Maybe it was the fact that he ran through the middle of a cornfield covered in meteor dust. What on earth was Lex doing?

Not that it mattered at the moment. He could feel his strength draining from him, and he had a vivid mental image of his body collapsing right into the dirt like an old balloon once all the air has leaked out. He had to move, or sex with Lex or anybody else would be a moot point. Unless it was the kind of sex that ended up on the X Files. When it still had Mulder on it.

Pushing himself to a vaguely upright position, he took off, staggering toward the edge of the cornfield. It took forever to fight his way through the hostile stalks with their malevolently glowing leaves, rustling in the night air, sounding like they were laughing at him, the glimpse of fat round yellow kernels between the husks winking at him like the blind eyes of huge insects.

Once he made it back to the farm, the nightmare didn't end. He knew, in the back of his mind, that he had to get out of his clothes, had to wash the dust off, had to let his parents know what had happened. But he was so tired, and he wasn't used to being tired.

Coming up on the farm from the back forty, he hit the barn. Literally. Rebounding off the side of the door, he bounced into a nice soft mat of hay that he was supposed to clean up Saturday. But it was Saturday, wasn't it? He couldn't think, couldn't do anything but plop his head down in the hay, burrow into it in a vain attempt to get away from the laughing mutant corn that pursued him still in his nightmare, and give himself up to his exhaustion.

Sleep ambushed him, but that was a good thing, because as soon as he started to dream the nightmare stopped. He was moving again, toward Lex, not away from him. He slipped through the security perimeter with his usual ease, laughing under his breath as the cameras failed to register the blur as he passed.

Then he was through the side door and up the stairs and into Lex's bedroom. Lex was asleep, alone in his big bed with the dark blue sheets and the puffy pillows. He was naked.

White skin against blue sheets. A bruise here and there but not many. He healed well. Good thing, as often as he got knocked around since coming to Smallville. Knocked around and pistol-whipped and tied up ... Clark shivered. Then he stripped and climbed onto the bed beside Lex, moving so fast he was over him before Lex could wake up. Bleary blue eyes blinked up at him, first with shock and a trace of fear, then confusion and a crooked little smirk.

Clark kissed that smirk like he'd been wanting to do since the first time Lex used it on him. Lex shouted something but Clark couldn't make out the words, muffled as they were by his tongue. It was unimportant. This was his dream, after all, and Lex had no say in it. If it was the only way he was going to get sex with Lex, then by damn, he was going to take it.

Lex squirmed under him, getting one arm loose and aiming a fist at Clark's chin. Clark caught it before Lex could hurt himself -- after all, it wasn't like he could hurt Clark -- and pinned it along with the other wrist over Lex's head. With a quick twist, he turned Lex onto his belly, holding him against the bed, easily overpowering his struggles. More words, muffled by the pillow, and Clark ignored them too. He was busy with other matters.

Like running his free hand all over Lex's back and butt and shoulders and underneath to feel his stomach and his chest and down to his groin where he was getting hard. Of course. Clark was already hard, dripping hard, and Lex was his fantasy, so he had to be hard too. Stroking along the length of Lex's dick, like he would if it was his own, he laughed again as Lex bucked against him. Half-hard got really hard very fast.

Nestling his knees between Lex's thighs, not a hundred per cent sure what he was doing but willing to go with instinct and a few too many spring seasons watching the horses mate, Clark ran his dick up and down the length of Lex's ass, getting it wet, then sliding the tip between the soft-skinned cheeks. Lex was cool everywhere else, the skin under Clark's hand and against his lips and beneath his chest a contrast to his own heat, but his ass was like a radiator, and Clark loved it. Judging by the way Lex's dick jumped against Clark's palm, so did he.

Needing more, Clark drew back a little and pushed the head of his dick against the small slick hole. It slid off, and the noises coming from the pillow took on a sharp note. Still, Clark was nothing if not persistent, and after a couple more tries, he managed to jam the head in the hole. His foreskin felt like it was getting skinned off with a potato peeler, and the tip of his dick felt like it was stuck in a vice, so he froze. Lex's dick, so happy a second before, wilted in his hand.

That wasn't right.

After a long moment, wondering what he should do now and why his dream was taking such a strange and potentially painful path, because every other time he'd dreamed about fucking Lex it had been kind of blurry and felt really good, the constriction around the end of his dick eased, and it dawned on him that he could move. Sounded like a good plan, so he thrust in, holding back on his strength but not slowing down until he felt those cushy ass cheeks pushed up against his groin.

Man, that felt good.

The dick in his hand was soft now, and that still wasn't right, so he kept his hips right where they were and started pulling at Lex's dick. Draped together the way they were it was just like masturbation, only with his hand further away from his body, so he jerked and stroked as if he was doing himself. The garbled sounds coming from the pillow softened as the dick he was pulling hardened, and soon Lex's hips started moving back and forth the whole inch he could move, caged as he was by Clark's body.

That felt so good, and so right, that Clark breathed, "Righteous," against the back of Lex's head and started moving back and forth, too. In and out. Still tight, but not as tight as before, and still incredibly hot, and Clark's hand sped up the way he liked it. A muffled scream came from the pillow, but he paid it no heed since Lex's dick was spurting. The vice around Clark's dick was back, only it felt more like some kind of vacuum, and then he was coming, too. Humping over Lex's back a lot like one of the stallions servicing a mare, legs pushing up until he was as far in Lex as he could get.

The body wrapped around his shuddered and lay still. Clark gave Lex's dick one last stroke then wrapped his fingers around it. Much better than a teddy bear to cuddle before falling asleep. Sleep sounded like a good idea, too, so he let himself go. The last thought he had was that it had been one hell of a dream, and he had to try to remember it when he woke up so he could use it next time he jerked off. Then he buried his face against the imaginary sweaty silk of Lex's skin and that was it. Out like a light.

 

What the holy hell had **that** been?

Lex stared at the broad, long-fingered hand that still ringed his wrists, caging them above his head effortlessly. It had all been effortless. For Clark.

Clark.

God, wasn't that a kick in the head. Lex would think it was a flashback from one too many acid-trips gone awry, but for the ache in his ass and the human furnace spooning up behind him.

Well, maybe human. Maybe mutant. In Smallville, who the fuck knew?

He'd woken from a deep sleep, troubled by vague dreams of shimmering ghosts tying him up and cutting him with knives, to find Clark hovering over him. The boy was naked, and built as well as Lex had suspected beneath the baggy jeans and flannel. His skin gleamed in the low light. His face was all planes and shadows, green eyes glittering, almost glowing, matching a light dusting of what looked like metallic green makeup streaking his face, highlighting his eyes, his cheekbones, the line of his jaw.

Funny, he hadn't taken Clark for being one to experiment, but put him in leather pants and a mesh shirt, leave on the glitter-dust, with his hair falling over his eyes and that feral expression on his gorgeous face, and he'd be beating them off in droves at any Metropolis sex club. Or he'd have droves lining up to beat him off. Or both.

The situation went from bizarre to surreal in a heartbeat as Clark kissed Lex so hard his jaw ached. Lex was panting by the time Clark let him have some air. He raised a hand to stop another kiss in order to ask a question, only to have his wrist caught. He was turned prone with his face buried in the pillow before he could blink, and from there it was a struggle to breathe and stay conscious as he was treated to some of the roughest trade he'd enjoyed since leaving the clubs. He hadn't been ridden like that since the last time he'd lost control in a sexual encounter.

When he was sixteen.

The fact that it was happening now, five years later, at the hands and from the body of a sixteen year old, tied his brain in a knot. What was left of his brain after Clark rammed into him, with very little foreplay and no preparation, then fucked him into Nirvana. The hand moving like a jackhammer at his cock struck just the right note of pain and pleasure to make the sex truly incredible.

Well, no, the reality that it was Clark who did it to him made it _truly_ incredible.

Wriggling his wrists experimentally, he found the loose circle of fingers as immovable a prison as the tighter grip Clark had when conscious, if much less bruising. Unable to move most of his body with Clark wound around him like a cocoon, Lex nudged the pillow away with his chin until he could lay his head down on the brushed satin sheet without suffocating, and did what he did best when presented with a challenging experience.

He thought.

As Clark's cock softened and slipped out of him, as the heat radiating from Clark's body warmed Lex through to the bone in a way he'd never felt before, and as two very slow hours ticked by, Lex's brain worked at the weird events of the evening. By the time Clark stirred behind him, he'd reached five conclusions.

The vaguely-familiar green dust made Clark's eyes glow the same way Lana's necklace had out in the cornfield when Lex cut him down after Whitney and the other idiot jocks strung him up. The dust on his skin seemed to shimmer, too, but that might have been Lex's own eyes blurring. That kiss had been enough to tilt reality.

Clark's inhuman strength, which Lex had suspected since Clark pulled him from the car wreck, wasn't a figment of his imagination. Not only that, Clark kept it in check with an ease that suggested it was ingrained habit. So he'd been freakishly strong all his life, since having any habit ingrained by the age of sixteen meant he'd been practicing since he was a toddler. Lex knew. He had a few of his own.

The spark between them hadn't been his imagination. Clark felt it too, and the heat had simmered until it exploded. Lex needed to know what had triggered it. Clark had phenomenal control over his impulses, especially for a teenager, and for him to break into Lex's house, leap into Lex's bed, and fuck Lex through the mattress, _something_ must have happened. After all, Clark was unfailingly polite. If he hadn't been temporarily insane, he would at least have asked before he jumped Lex.

He hadn't smelled of alcohol, and beside the fact that Clark was the poster boy for clean living, Lex kept a close eye on illegal substances moving through the area. What little there was. He sincerely doubted Clark was high. Unless Whitney got tired of having cuter, taller, sexier competition for Lana and spiked Clark's soda. In which case, after Lex thanked Whitney, he was going to personally kill the son of a bitch. Unless Jonathan Kent got to him first.

Finally, Clark's parents must think he was at Chloe's, or Pete's, or finally getting lucky with Lana, or hiding up in his loft, because it was one in the morning on a Saturday and no rabidly protective fathers were pounding on his door with loaded shotguns.

In summary: something was up with the meteor rocks; Clark was indeed stronger than the Incredible Hulk and glowed faintly green at times, although he was much prettier; the sexual tension between he and Clark was not only real, but now explicit; Clark hadn't been in control of his actions, for reasons unknown; and Lex had a few hours to find out what was going on before the Kent parents descended on him like the wrath of god and carted him off to the Smallville Jail for Corrupters of Innocent Youth. Innocence being relative, under the circumstances.

Feeling somewhat more in control, of his mind if not his body, Lex relaxed against Clark and waited for the kid to wake up and freak out.

Soft lips moved against the curve of his neck as Clark snuffled, waking slowly. The movement changed from random to affectionate as the lips formed a kiss, then rapidly degenerated into panic as the mouth opened and a shocked "Ohmygod!" came out. Clark practically levitated off the bed, cowering in the far corner of the room, staring at Lex like he was Satan incarnate. Lex waited patiently for a few moments, but when Clark made no further movement, he sighed and raised his hands to rub his eyes.

"Ohmygod, ohmygod," Clark mumbled softly as he crept back toward the bed, reaching out one trembling hand to barely touch the ring of bruises darkening around Lex's forearm.

Lex looked at the shaking fingers brushing against his skin as if he was fine porcelain about to shatter, and said matter-of-factly, "It's okay, Clark."

Not the right tack to take, judging by the moan Clark gave and the way his knees collapsed. Lex looked over to see Clark, tears in his eyes, kneeling by the bed, staring at him now as if he was going to expire at any moment. Lex's second sigh was a lot less patient than his first one. He opened his mouth to explain that he was really all right, and ask Clark what on earth was going on, when Clark suddenly jumped to his feet and started pacing.

The sight of all that delicious naked flesh waving about as Clark bounced back and forth across the room distracted Lex from actually listening for awhile, but the word "police" brought him back to the conversation with a jolt.

"No!" he yelped. Clark started like a hare and stared at Lex, eyes huge in his face. The green glitter had worn away, leaving a red flush staining his cheeks, and he looked absolutely edible. Clamping down on the thought, Lex rushed to stop the kid from doing anything incredibly stupid. Like calling the police.

"You can't do that. If you do, they'll take one look at me and toss me in jail for statutory rape, and send you home to your parents, at which time your father will come down to the jail and shoot me before they can even set a trial date."

Clark looked at Lex as if he'd lost his mind. "But," he said quietly, his voice shaking so much it was hard to understand his words, "I raped you. You need to go to the hospital. I need to call the police."

"No, you **don't**!" Lex tried to jump out of bed and physically restrain Clark from getting them both up to their ears in shit, but his ass protested the movement loudly, and he subsided with a pained, "ouch."

Clark whimpered. It was kind of sexy. Lex looked over at him. He had the look of a kicked puppy.

"But I rape-- "

"Shut up, Clark," Lex cut him off. That full, red mouth, quivering enough to tempt a saint to mortal sin, opened again, and Lex licked his own dry lips and plowed on. "No judge in the land, particularly in Smallville, will ever believe that a sixteen year old farmboy took sexual advantage of Lex Luthor. Not at my age and not with my reputation. If you call the police, I will be arrested. It will be my fault, regardless of anything you say. No one will listen to you and I'll be sent to prison for statutory rape." Maybe repeating himself would get through. Clark still stared at him, huge green eyes glistening, tragic expression on his face. Lex shifted to cover his renewed hard-on and gave Clark his best commanding glare. "Now. No more talk about calling the police. Okay?"

That earned him a mute nod. Clark licked his lips, making Lex's entire body twitch, then asked tentatively, "Hospital? I hurt you."

He sounded as tragic as he looked. For an instant, Lex was irresistibly reminded of Alfredo in Traviata, but that would cast Lex himself as a consumptive hooker, and while he'd certainly had enough sex in his lifetime to qualify as a professional, he had no intention of dying any time soon. Besides, he was a guy. His erection was telling him so, quite insistently. He took a deep breath and wondered how to break the news to Clark that not all pain was bad.

"You didn't rape me, Clark." He raised a hand, not the one holding the sheet in place to cover his cock, to hold off more protestations of guilt. "Yeah, you fucked me, and I wasn't quite expecting it."

A blush ran up Clark's body from his toes clear to his hairline, tripping Lex's tongue. It was a moment before he could remember how to talk. God, the kid was gorgeous. And, caught up in contrition, he'd completely forgotten the fact that he was stark naked. Lex hoped it would be awhile before he remembered.

"The fact is, I don't think you were in control of yourself. You didn't hurt me badly, and I'm okay. I'm worried about you, though," he said softly, patting the side of the bed encouragingly.

Clark inched a few steps closer, like a skittish wild animal, and Lex smiled as sweetly as he could without showing his teeth. Didn't want to look _too_ hungry. Clark smiled uncertainly back at him.

"Sometimes, our bodies take over, do things our minds wouldn't let us do if we were in control of ourselves. Is that what happened? Did somebody give you something, or did you drink something, that made you a little out of control?" Crazy, sexy, begging for it, out of control, Lex thought.

Clark gulped, looked down at his toes, then glanced up through his hair at Lex. That elicited a nearly overwhelming urge to tackle the kid and fuck him senseless right there in the middle of the Persian carpet, but since his own well-fucked body wasn't in any shape to tackle anyone, Lex successfully fought temptation and waited for an answer. No hint of his inner animal-in-heat showed on his face. Of course. He was a Luthor, after all.

Not that the answer made much sense when it came. Clark sounded pretty confused by the whole thing, but at least as he talked he wandered closer until he was perched on the edge of the bed. So close, it was practically impossible to keep his hands to himself, but Lex managed. Barely.

"I was just running, you know, out to clear my mind, and I wasn't really paying attention, and I fell and got this dust stuff all over me. I was going to go home and take a shower because it was making me feel sick and tired, but I only got as far as the barn and I fell asleep and I dreamed that I came over to your house and got in bed with you and had sex with you only it wasn't a dream and I can't believe I did that to you." The cascade of words trickled to a stop and Clark sat there, staring at Lex, damp green eyes blinking down sadly at him. His body was literally humming, he was holding himself so still, his muscles tight with tension.

Okay, so his conclusions had been correct. Lex looked appraisingly at the trembling, freaked-out, strung-out on something Lex would figure out later, vulnerable Clark sitting eight inches away from him and twitched again. To hell with it. He'd figure it _all_ out later. First he had more enjoyable things to do. Er, more _important_ things to do. Right.

"Clark," he said very gently, slowly reaching out the hand that wasn't shielding his erection to let his fingers rest feather-light on the kid's arm, "it really is all right. I'm okay. But you're not." Clark gave him a miserable look. Kicked puppy? Pulped puppy, by that point. "I'm worried about you." Clark opened his mouth to protest, again, and Lex raised his hand to lay a finger across those lips. Soft, moist lips. Oh, yeah. He let a hint of purpose show in his voice. "Am I right in thinking that until tonight you were a virgin?" He didn't need the hesitant nod for confirmation; another body-wide blush answered for him. "This was much more traumatic for you than it was for me," adding a second finger to stop yet another guilty protest, "and I don't want your first experience with sex to end this way."

Opening his hand, he drew his fingers away and cupped Clark's chin, drawing him down until they were a breath apart. "Kiss me?" Lex whispered.

Clark's eyes closed and he dipped his head. Lex watched and corrected the aim, moving so that the seeking lips landed where they were supposed to, on his mouth, not his chin. Clark's lips were indeed as soft and sweet as they looked, and what he lacked in experience he more than made up for with natural talent. Lex worked his lips until Clark opened his mouth wide, then slipped his tongue in, swiping it over Clark's, then withdrawing. Clark immediately followed with his own tongue, and Lex sucked on it until Clark got the idea that it would be fun to play in there.

Fun for both of them.

Intent on the kiss, Clark was easy for Lex to maneuver back onto the bed. Wrapping one arm around the broad shoulders and the other around the narrow waist, Lex shifted Clark over and down, ending up draped over the top of him, still kissing one another deeply. It was so damned good Lex nearly came just from kissing, another thing that hadn't happened to him in years. Eventually, Clark realized that they'd moved, and broke the kiss to stare, wide-eyed, up at Lex.

"What do you want to do?" Lex asked quietly. Clark stared at him. Swept his eyes down, gaze catching on the rampant erection now leaking on his stomach, brushing against his own, and moaned.

"I want to touch you," Clark choked out.

Lex dropped a kiss on the end of his nose and rolled off to lie beside him, propping his hands behind his head. "Have at it," he invited.

Rising to rest on one elbow, Clark stared seriously down at his face as if trying to read his mind. "You trust me to do that? After what I did?"

Swallowing a reflexive 'god yes,' Lex contented himself with a simple, "I trust you with my life. Of course I trust you with my body."

Clark gave him a blinding smile. Then, starting at his mouth and taking the scenic route, Clark proceeded to explore, leaving Lex feeling like he was being worshipped. He'd never been the recipient of such concentrated attention before, and by the time Clark made it past his nipples to his cock, Lex was close to coming just from air brushing over the ultra-sensitized skin Clark left in his wake. The first touch of Clark's tongue to the head of his erection made him arch and moan.

The tongue disappeared and Clark drew back like he'd been bitten. Lex stared wildly at him. "Why'd you stop?" It came out harsher than he'd intended. Clark ducked his head and blushed again.

"Thought I'd hurt you," he mumbled.

Lex managed to strangle the demand to be hurt some more, just like that, and forced out, "No, that was pleasure. Please resume," through gritted teeth.

Another flashing grin from Clark, this one with a hint of wickedness to which Lex could quickly become addicted. Then he leaned forward and licked Lex from balls to crown, as if his cock were an ice cream cone and it was a hot summer day. Lex made a garbled sound that could have been a plea or a prayer, and was probably both. Clark took it for encouragement. He proceeded to taste every inch of Lex's cock, nudging Lex's thighs apart and sucking on his balls, licking down his perineum then back up, before slurping all over his cock again. Lex hung on to the pillow with both fists and tried not to scream loudly enough to frighten Clark off again.

For a beginner, he was a hell of a good cock sucker. The occasional graze of teeth made Lex jump, but he disguised the movement by squirming his hips and rocking back and forth, so Clark didn't know he'd scraped him, and didn't know Lex liked it. They'd have time for exploring alternative methods of giving and receiving pleasure once Clark got over his scare.

Of course, by the way he was chowing down on Lex, the timetable for exploration could probably be pushed up. By several weeks. The kid was a fast learner.

He was nearly too good, because Lex was coming, almost before he could warn Clark. He got as far as, "Clark! Gonna c-c-c--" and Clark closed his lips around the head of Lex's cock and sucked for all he was worth. Orgasm ripped through Lex like a tornado, and when it was over, he lay against the pillows, convinced his brain had exploded and his body had melted to mush.

Gasping for breath, he raised his head far enough to look at Clark, and his balls spasmed reflexively. If he'd had anything left to give he'd've given it, because Clark was a wet dream in action as he hunched over Lex's body, hand moving so fast it was a blur. He came seconds after Lex, spraying semen on Lex's thigh, his groin, and his wet, quivering cock. The fluid glistened on his pubic hair, and Lex instinctively ran a finger through it, gathering some up to taste. Licking his fingertip, he heard a strangled moan, and glanced over to see Clark staring at his hand moving at his mouth. The feral look was back. Lex smirked. Glanced down.

God bless teenage hormones. The kid was hard again. "We don't have to stop unless you want to." Lex said it as suggestively as possible. Given his past experience in matters sexual, that was suggestive enough to raise the dead, and Clark was far from that.

With another one of those innocent smiles shaded just the other side of wicked, Clark gently pushed until Lex rolled over to lie on his stomach again. Unlike the first time they'd done this, Lex was the one in control, and he liked it. Clark feathered licking kisses over his skull, down his neck, across his shoulders, up and down his arms, then along his spine, paying close attention to every twitch, every shudder, every sound Lex gave.

At least Lex thought he was in control, until that inquisitive tongue approached his ass and, after a few nibbles at his ass cheeks, dove directly for the center target.

"Shit!" Lex screamed, not inappropriately for the area Clark was now licking. The tongue checked and started to withdraw, not what Lex wanted. "Oh, god, please don't stop. Whatever you do, you better not stop. If you stop I'm going to have to kill you, Clark, and I really like you, so please, please don't stop." Had that come from him? Lex clamped his teeth in his lower lip to stop himself from spouting further embarrassing babble.

Nevertheless, it worked. With a chuckle that could only be described as evil, Clark lowered his head again. Strong hands kneaded his buttocks rhythmically as Clark licked Lex from stem to stern, taking his time and exploring thoroughly. Clark's tongue was as strong as the rest of him, and when it breached him, Lex nearly came from the sensation of the agile tongue fucking him. He moaned involuntarily and continuously, and Clark seemed to enjoy it as much, judging by the enthusiasm with which he bent to his task.

Having never been rimmed with quite that much gusto, much less speared on a tongue like that, Lex was ready to come one hell of a lot sooner than he'd expected. For a man who prided himself on his control, Clark was blowing through it like a hurricane through a bamboo fence. The tongue finally took pity and withdrew, only to be followed immediately by two long, blunt fingers, probing with unerring accuracy and exceptional tenderness, deep into his ass.

That was all it took. Humping back on Clark's hand desperately, Lex shoved the corner of the pillow in his mouth, screamed his heart out and came so hard spots swam in front of his eyes. It must have been a lucky hit. No way Clark could have deliberately stroked his prostate. Natural talent, for damned sure.

The fingers stayed in his ass throughout his climax, twisting gently this way and that, unknowingly intensifying the sensations for Lex, and Lex silently blessed Clark for his constant curiosity. When he could feel something beyond the nerves still randomly firing under his skin, Lex became aware that Clark had straddled his left thigh and was riding his cock against it, rubbing himself off. A moment later, Clark bore down hard, and hot fluid sprayed Lex's ass, dripping down to dribble over his balls. Lex grinned through a mouthful of feathers, where he'd bitten clear through the pillow sheath.

If a round-the-world tactile exploration of Lex's body and two mind-shattering orgasms weren't enough to convince Clark that sex wasn't supposed to be traumatic, then nothing would. Not that Lex would be adverse to trying some more.

A lot more. Every chance he got, more.

As long as Jonathan and his shotgun stayed home. And nobody called the cops.

Spitting the last of the feather fluff out, Lex used his few remaining undissolved muscles to turn over. Clark sprawled beside him on the bed, and Lex reached out to him, running his fingers over the flushed, sweaty face, through the silky dark hair shading the now-calm green eyes, lingering at a splash of semen dried along the square jaw. "I'm okay. Are you okay?"

This time when the bright smile flashed, it lingered. "Isn't that the name of a book?"

Lex gave him a look, and Clark giggled. Lex's eyes widened. A giggle. The new experiences kept piling up. Then he grinned back at Clark and leaned forward to snuggle against him, kissing him, licking his face until it was clean. Clark kissed and licked and snuggled back, until Lex finally drew away with a final peck to his lips. Dawn was breaking, light streaking through the windows to creep along the carpet toward the bed.

"It's time for all good farmboys to be heading back to their farms, before their daddies come looking for them," he said softly. Clark's smile dimmed. "I'm sorry, sweetheart, but there's no way I'm facing your father with you tucked up naked in my bed. I'm not that good an actor, and I left my kevlar vest back in Metropolis."

Clark blinked at him. The silence stretched, until Clark finally said, "Sweetheart?"

It was Lex's turn to blush. Yet another thing he hadn't done in years. Grabbing one of the pillows that was still intact, he bashed Clark over the head with it. Clark was still cracking up when he finally evaded Lex's pillow attack, rolled out of bed, and got dressed. Pausing at the door, he glanced over his shoulder at Lex, reclining in a messy nest of stained sheets, burst pillows and wild feathers, looking as debauched as he felt. Clark's grin muted into a very sweet smile.

"Thanks, Lex," he mumbled.

Not needing to ask, Lex shook his head, and said firmly, "You're welcome, we're both okay, and I'll see you soon. Right?"

Clark nodded, shoved his hair off his face, and grinned again. "Right."

Then he was gone. Lex plucked absently at a feather stuck to his chest and went to take a bath. Relaxing in the steaming water, he stared up at the ceiling and pondered the various properties of meteor rocks and their effects on farmboys. This called for further study. Experiments. Repeated experiments. He grinned.

He'd always loved science.

 

This time, Clark made it back to the farm with no trouble at all. He swept up to his room faster than his mom's eye could track, waiting until her back was turned as she cooked breakfast to whirl through the kitchen. Whatever weird effects the meteor dust had, it appeared to wear off over time.

Taking his clothes off and changing into sweats, he noticed that most of the dust had fallen off, and wondered if that might be the reason he wasn't affected any more, rather than weakening over time. He wondered if that was what it felt like to be drunk, or do drugs, to lose all his inhibitions and not care what he did. He wondered a lot of things.

Anything to keep his mind from constantly replaying the feel and sight and smell of Lex stretched out beneath him, moving and making noises and coming.

He couldn't think about that, because if he did, he'd never get his dick to calm down. That wasn't the worst part, though.

As much as it turned him on to remember Lex moaning his name and begging him not to stop, it turned him on just as much to remember him pinned to the bed, writhing, unable to escape, as Clark fucked him.

And that scared him.

He'd covered it pretty well, he thought, by the end. He was as relaxed and calm and affectionate as he could be, and he'd discovered once Lex gave him permission to play that he could be pretty darned affectionate. Even when he wasn't very relaxed or calm.

The kissing had been great, and holding each other had been cool. Although if Lex ever called him sweetheart again he was going to have to smack him. The way Lex looked when Clark sucked him was a total turn-on, and every time he closed his eyes Clark could see exactly the way Lex looked when he came.

But there was more. Something in Lex had reacted to Clark manhandling him, had met Clark's unexpected hunger with a hunger just as deep and just as fierce. Even dusted out of his mind as he'd been, thinking it was a dream, Clark hadn't missed that. Lex's insistence that he was okay, aside from the whole issue of calling the cops, his willingness to let Clark touch him again, told Clark more than Lex probably meant to say.

Clark wanted that again.

Oh, he wanted the soft touches, the kisses and cuddling again, too. But he needed to feel the hunger, the edge, the push to the brink of control. He wanted the rush.

So did Lex. Clark had felt it.

Now he had to find a way to make Lex admit it. Without benefit of meteor-rock-dust-induced-euphoria. Because the hunger was still there. Wrapped up in tenderness, cushioned by affection, it was the heart of the pull he felt every time he got near Lex. Now that he knew what it was, he didn't want to live without it ever again.

He wasn't sure he could.

Swinging through the kitchen, he kissed his mom on the cheek and told her good morning.

"Sleep well?" she asked as she prodded bacon in the skillet. Clark tried not to blush, thankful she was preoccupied with cooking.

"Great," he said a little too cheerfully. "I'm, uhm, going to do some chores now."

She gave him a funny look, but he was already out the door. He told himself he had to do better, and hoped she put it down to random weirdness. Instead of heading out to the fields, though, he went up into the loft. Aiming his telescope further north than usual, he stared through the lens at the Luthor castle.

There, on the second floor, Lex would be having breakfast. Or he might be in the library, working on his computer. Or up on the top floor, in that fancy bathtub with the gold feet. Soaking in hot water, steam flushing his skin. Clark felt the blood come up in his own face at the mental images. He didn't know quite what to call it, because he'd never felt it before. But he had a feeling the weird bundle of lust and hunger and urge to protect and affection knotting up his insides might be love.

He hoped it wasn't just the lingering aftereffects of getting dusted. Because he didn't want it ever to go away. A blur of movement in one of the windows caught his eye and he peered intently, seeing Lex's outline as he stood at the window. Clark licked his lips, one hand sliding down his jeans to ease the sudden constriction.

Nope. This wasn't going to go away any time soon. And whether it was lust or meteor rocks or real love, he was going to go after it with everything he had, for as long as Lex let him. Maybe longer.

Besides, he still had to ask him about the rock dust on the corn ... eventually.

_END_

 


End file.
